


Have the People Changed

by Nevara_Alyss



Series: Subjugated by Fate [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dark, F/M, Graphic Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Multi, Rape Aftermath, Threesome - F/M/M, Torture, Violence, non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 09:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevara_Alyss/pseuds/Nevara_Alyss





	1. Chapter 1

Years had passed for the child. She had matured and fell into her role quite easily. While the physical acts still relied on Leto, she understood what she was to be when the time came. It was nearly unheard of that the magister would have waited so long to have her fully fulfill her obligation, but she was well aware that the time would draw to a close and that would be it.

For her sake, she was glad that her companion wouldn't have to undergo the torment anymore. Many a night she was forced from the room while Danarius had his way with the boy. She listened to it and couldn't escape it no matter where she went. Some nights were more violent than others. The sound reverberated off the walls and down the stairs where she usually remained until beckoned to join her master, often catching the aftermath when it was still at its worst.

She still practiced her magic in secret and had become quite talented. She would sneak away to her hiding spot, usually down in the dungeons and practice her craft. During the daylight hours, she was tutored and learned many of the ways of the Imperium, the Qunari and the social graces that she would be required to entertain when she was with Danarius. Many of the magisters envied their colleague and had propositioned him for a night with his fair lass.

All requests would be rejected, of course, but that still didn't stop the leering of the guards and male slaves that came in contact with her. She befriended one of them and talked to him when he was on duty- asking questions of his family and life outside the walls that confined her from the outside world.

She had seen Carver maybe twice in six years and every time she had, he looked well if a little more gaunt from his previous visit. His role was so indecipherable she didn't know if he was a true slave, servant. One minute he'd be ordered to do something, the next asked kindly. They never spoke to each other and it was something she would have very much liked to have done.

"Happy birthday," Leto muttered.

He sat at her feet, twisting a blade of grass between his fingers.

Adria looked from her book and down at the elf. Her eyebrow crooked at the statement.

"Thank you."

"So, you're-?"

"Thirteen."

She thumbed the corner of the page nervously and set the tome down beside her. She lifted the hem of her dress and kicked her shoes off. The grass was cool, moist and tickled her splayed toes. Leto blew the blade of grass from his palm and dusted his hands clean.

"So do you think tonight is-?" he asked.

"I don't want to think about it. Hadriana has been slightly more relaxed in the past couple of days, so I can only assume that: yeah, this is probably it," the girl murmured. She slid off the bench and sat down beside the boy. He glanced at her and turned his attention to her fumbling hands in her lap. The heavy velvet crumpled as she pinched the fabric and shook her head. "I know I shouldn't bring this up, but how do you deal with it?"

He straightened up and glared at her. His eyes kept tracing her face and down to her bodice and back up again.

"It's kind of hard to say. It's been going on for years," he answered. He looked away from her, his eyes filled with shame.

"So if I do this, then he won't do it to you anymore?" She leaned closer to him and dipped her head down to look at him. He kept turning further and further away to avoid eye contact. His attention turned to the guards that marched along the path in front of them. The men looked at the girl and whispered to themselves. They chuckled and continued on. She ignored it, her focus was him. She didn't care who noticed their interaction. "Leto, tell me."

The boy shrugged and blinked at her.

"I don't know, Adria. He'll get what he wants from who he wants; when he wants."

"I know that."

"Then why do you even ask?" he snapped.

"Because if I have to do this, I'm doing it for you not for him," she whispered.

He snapped around and shuddered. His breath was ragged and she saw the muscles twitch through his clothes. He licked his lips, eyes wide and all she wanted was for him to touch her. He swallowed hard and huffed as he thought about what she was telling him.

"You don't belong to me. You are Danarius' and as such you concede to him," he stated. He rose from the soft grass, leaving his imprint. Small blades sprung to life in the beating of the sun and shimmied in the weak breeze.

He walked away from her in the direction of the estate. Adria ran after him and spun him around.

"I won't concede everything. There are things that he'll never reach and those are the things I will give freely to whomever I want. I don't want to have to sit up till all hours of the night and listen to him abusing you when I can't do anything about it." Two more guards started towards them and she released him from her grasp. She bit her lip and trembled at what she was about to say to him. "I might belong to him, but you are the closest thing I've had to a friend since I've been here. I wouldn't want you to endure the unnecessary if I am more applicable for the position." Leto went to protest her words. She shook her head and placed her fingers to his lips. "If I'm to whore myself to him, then so be it. It was in fact why I was brought here in the first place. I've accepted that. I never expected to find anything else once I got here. But I did and even though I know I'm nothing but a child and have no real aspirations as to where my path will lead me in the future. I know for certain that the left road doesn't meet with the right."

"You're rambling," the elf smirked from behind her finger.

"Shut up," she grumbled. "Just know that-." She became flustered and when she looked at him for the final time she didn't have to say anything. She thought he knew all the words she wanted to say, but could never lose control over the inevitable. She would never belong to him. With Danarius going back and forth from Minrathous and Seheron, there was plenty of time to deal with the complications that had come up in her and Leto's relationship.

She cared for him and even when they argued, she was the one to lose control of her emotions and paralleled the one course she didn't want to be on. The more she matured the more she realized that after everything she was still human, still alive and breathing, still wanting someone to love her for whom she was. She knew that Danarius loved her deeply and that was why he was biding his time. The strolling walks in the garden during the evening hours after the evening's meal became common place and they still lived out their ritual of talking about the day and how much he'd grown to care for her.

_"You have never made me feel this way about any of my slaves."_

"Leto, we have to get ready for dinner," the elf girl called.

"Alright. I'll be right there," he told her. "I'm sorry, Adria. I-I-I have to go."

"Sure," she breathed. Leto smiled and began to leave. "Save you some cake?"

"Wouldn't miss it," he said over his shoulder.

She always left him something from her dinner when no one was looking. Often while Danarius was amidst his pleasures with Leto she would sneak down to the slave quarters and hide stuff under his pillow. She had been caught once by Hadriana and harshly reprimanded for her altruistic demonstrations.

XXXXX

They dined. The birthday girl was in her finest as she glanced at the food and meekly prodded it. She was pale when Danarius spoke to her and she had rejected his offering for cake. It was uncharacteristic of her and as she looked up at him, he knew that tonight was indeed the night. His heart raced and when the magister left the table to prepare himself, Adria sat there alone. He approached her, not listening to the warnings of D'lara from behind him.

He caressed her back. The bony protrusions of her backbone peeked just slightly through the thin fabric of her dress. The deep blue shimmered faintly in the candlelight and her dark makeup made her deep green eyes all the darker with its black-rimmed eyeliner. He was making every attempt to make her feel better and without warning she threw her arms around him and sobbed.

He froze in place and listened to the soft sobs and muffled words that escaped her. She was speaking her native tongue and he was lost to it. The meter at which it was spoken was hardly decipherable from what little she'd taught him. He hushed her and held her for a moment.

"Adria," he croaked. His throat became tight and no matter how many times he tried to swallow, the knot wouldn't dislodge itself.

"I know. I know," she muttered.

She dried her eyes and he accepted the fact that time had run out for the both of them. He led her to the stairs and let her ascend the steps alone. This was something that he couldn't help or protect her from. She kept glancing over her shoulder at him and when she reached the top she paused and gave him one last hurtful glance. With that lingering picture to haunt him, she disappeared and the last sound he heard from where he stood was the door shutting.

His heart came to a stop and he waited for the inevitable truth to hit him. He knew that Danarius wasn't going to have a care or concern about her well-being from the get-go and every urge he fought off told him to stop her. Yet it was too late and his hands were tied.

"So I was right," D'lara remarked as she stood beside him.

"Shut up," Leto snapped.

He ran up the stairs and was hit by dreadful sounds emanating from under the door. He listened, unable to escape it. The grunting and crying that escaped from the crack. He broke as she screamed in agony and the sound of a slap landing on bare flesh made him jump back. The sounds were enough to paint the picture that would be etched into his mind. He argued with himself to not open the door and see it for himself. He rested his head on the door and shuddered. He was so close and yet so far away. She was defenseless to stop it and the beating continued.

Muffled voices haunted him and he couldn't listen to it. As much as he wanted to put an end to it, the deed was done and that small girl would be a different person by the time it was all over. Her innocence lost in a violent act that she had no control over. He wouldn't have treated her in such a way if it was him and that delicate lass would be the last person he wanted to hurt in such away.

It grew quiet and Leto held his breath. Pressing his ear to the door he listened to the scuffling from within. The somber crackling of wood in the fireplace and heavy breathing that seemed to radiate in all directions. The grunting and groaning continued by the all too familiar staggered breathing that meant they were nearing the finish. His eyes burned and he pictured her lying there, motionless, possibly unconscious from the assault. Her torn and broken body, left to fade on the expensive silken sheets. He slammed his eyes shut and scowled, begging for the images to disappear and leave him in peace. Yet they didn't ebb for him. They grew more insistent and angry, violent and almost exploratory.

Footsteps approached the door and he hurried away to the study and hid just inside the door. He stuck his head out and saw Danarius walking out of the room, his hair damp with sweat and a look of satisfaction on his aging face. Leto waited for him to reach the main floor before moving. He took diligent steps and followed the crying all the way to the egress of the master chamber. The smell hit him in the face and he recoiled briefly. He closed his eyes and prepared himself the best he could for the sight that he was going to see.

He took one step in and saw the small droplets of blood on the floor leading in the direction of a shadowed corner. He followed it, letting the sound of soft breathing and weeping lead him to the curled up body, wrapped in a blanket.

He knelt down beside Adria and was at a loss for words. There was nothing that they could say to each other. They both knew what happened. Why drag it out farther than it already had gone? He brushed away her hair and she flinched at his touch. She turned to him and shuddered. Her nose dripped with blood that landed on the blanket. Her lip was split and when she finally acknowledged the fact that he was standing there, she turned away abruptly and cried harder. Her beautiful applicated makeup was smeared and running. Her hair knotty and messy. The sweeping chignon hung loosely at her shoulders and yet, her bangs remained untouched, shielding the darkness of her eyes from him.

"Please don't look at me," she begged.

Leto stood and went to the nightstand on her side of the bed and retrieved her miniature golem doll from years before. The guard captain had taken it and had his wife stitch it back together for her at the boy's behest. He went back to her side and slowly made the doll dance for her happily. She caught sight of it and slightly smirked at what he was trying to do.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"No," she sniffled.

He threw his arms around her, not caring that the sheet that had hid her nudity had slid down to her waist. He held her close, breathing her in. Her body quivered against him and when she pushed away, the shimmer of her eyes remained. The fire was only stirred brighter and it glowed with passion. The slow drip of blood bled threw his clothes and hit his skin.

"Do you need me to get the healer?" he questioned.

She placed the torn sheet to her nose and blotted the blood away.

"No." Adria shook her head and tried to stand. He helped her up and led her to the bed. Her legs were weak and when she stumbled he caught her by her bruised wrists. She winced and tried to withdraw, but Leto caught her and hefted her up as gently as he could. "If Danarius catches you he's going to hurt you."

"He can do what he wants with me. It doesn't matter."

He aided her getting into bed and covered her up. He sat in the chair across the room from her and watched her fall asleep. The golem doll lay on his lap and stared up at him with large black eyes. He would give it back to her in the morning, but first he had to come to terms with what Danarius had done to her. He wouldn't forget it and if he could ever gather up enough courage to defy their master he would. He would be dishonoring her not to do something about it.

She was his charge and he did the one thing he failed to do: protect her.


	2. Chapter 2

The stars hung above her as the moon was making its long trek from the apex of sky. The night loomed over her and the continuous darkness hid her battered body from prying eyes. Night after painstaking night she fled from that cursed room to regain what little dignity she could. She had to escape the pungent taint that seeped into her. The stale breath and sweat that wouldn't dissipate in the stiffest winds followed her. 

The brisk autumn air was well worth the cold, compared to the monstrosity that slumbered yards away. Her white silken night gown flitted gently in the breeze as she walked in the grass towards the sounds of a small fountain. Guards passed on the path, carrying torches and talking amongst themselves, but not acknowledging her. Most were on their way back to the guardhouse, but some remained, still on night patrol.

Adria constantly looked over her shoulder to see if anyone had followed her and when she was certain that she was alone, she slipped between two large trees and into the dead of night. A small green patch of frigid grass greeted her bare feet. She rubbed the chill from her arms and felt the welts that were hot and rose with each pass of her fingers. 

Every muscle ached and screamed their attention to her. 

She sat beside a small pond and stared at the shadowy figure looking back at her. The moon barely broke the treetops, casting its faint white glow on the water's surface. The quiet relaxation and solitude fit her in those trying moments. She breathed a sigh of relief and lay back on the grass. She looked to the heavens and traced the constellations and stellar orbs that floated above her. Her nightgown grew damp with dew and all she could think of was the appearance of some savior to come and take her away from the nightmarish life she was meant to live.

Tired eyes gazed until the universe was a blur. Her eyes welded with tears and excreted them when she yawned. She knew she couldn't linger here long, lest Danarius find out she was missing, but the warm arms of sleep beckoned her to relax and follow through with the natural order of things. A few hours peace would have been greatly appreciated, but stirrings within her stomach told her to stay vigilant. Instinct was overridden by need and she fell asleep with little argument for the reasoning.

XXXXX

"Well, well, what do we have here?" the slurred voice questioned.

"I don't know. It seems like the little mistress is lost. Such a shame," a second intoxicated voice replied.

Adria's eyes shot open and saw two guards staring down at her. She scrambled to her feet and rubbed the remaining exhaustion from her eyes.

"What do you want?" she muttered as she took a step back from them.

"Nothing, my dear lady. We were just wondering what such a docile creature, such as you, is doing all alone in the dead of night," the first guard answered with a sneer.

"Me thinks it's trying to escape from her master. Truly that would be dishonorable thing to do in this case," the second lisped.

"I wasn't trying to escape," she insisted.

"That's not what it looks like to us. It would be ever so heartbreaking to have to tell Master Danarius what his little prized position has been doing. I think my friend here would agree with me that certain obligatory actions would be necessary and we could forget this little meeting all together."

"Do you mean pay you? I have no money."

The pair chuckled and started towards her. Adria took several steps back and went to flee, but even in their drunken states they caught her and shoved her against the thick barked tree. It clawed at her already wounded flesh and splintered in fragments when the first guard pressed his knee into her groin. He restrained her hands over her head and leaned down on her.

"We won't accept money in this case my dear lady," he hissed in her ear.

"You should really reconsider; Danarius won't like it if you take advantage of me. He'll kill you both," she stammered, turning her head away from him when he tried to kiss her.

"And who is going to tell? You?" the first guard questioned with a grin.

"I will. He'll have your heads," she snapped.

She kicked at the guard and he lifted her higher onto the tree. She slid down again, but the hem of her gown stuck to the tree lifting it up high enough to see her upper thigh.

"She's a little spitfire, isn't she?" the first guard chuckled.

"We can't have her telling Danarius. We'll gut her afterwards and tell him that we caught her trying to escape," the second proposed. He unsheathed his sword and slid it down the front of her gown. It ripped through it easily and exposed her completely to the night air. She was pawed at and thrown to the ground. The ragged gown was pulled away as she landed on her knees. She struggled to get away, but firm hands held her in place.

She started to scream loudly when the guard on top of her cupped his hand over her mouth.

"Scream if you want. This will make it all the more interesting," the guard muttered.

She felt him getting closer to his target and she bawled silently as he began his descent. She bit his finger and drew blood. The guard pulled his hand away and shook it.

"The little bitch bit me," he growled. 

He yanked her up by the hair and spun her around to face him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement coming through the darkness towards them. She hoped that it was the kindly guard captain that had been more than courteous to her and Leto and while she stood there bare as the day she came into the world, modesty was a an afterthought at this point. She just wanted to be free of the despicable drunkards. They would pay; she would make sure that they did even if she carried her own punishment for sneaking away.

"What's going on here?" the familiar gravelly tone asked.

Her head snapped in the direction of the voice and saw Leto standing there. The guard unhanded her and snickered at the less than foreboding teen with a burning hatred in his eyes. Adria ran behind him and hid. She peered over his shoulder and gasped as they closed on him.

"What, the little knife-ear came to play too? Isn't she a little out of your league, boy? I'm sure you've thought nothing of conjugating with her. Look at the saucy little vixen."   
Leto glanced over his shoulder at the shaken girl. "We've watched her grow up into a sexy young woman and we would have loved to partaken in the forbidden just as you probably have wanted to," the first guard said.

"To what end?" the elf asked uncomfortably. "She is not for me to have."

"Ah, but that's where you are wrong, my friend," the second guard chimed. "You let us have her first and then you can experience what you've probably imagined for a long time."

"Tempting, but no."

He darted for them and was met with several blows before toppling to the ground. Adria muttered an incantation and dazed the guard closest to her. He stumbled forward and shook off the haze. She grabbed the sword leaning against the tree and ran at him running the blade through his armor and out the back. He turned on her and saw the hilt protruding like an appendage. He pulled on it and got it halfway out before falling to his knees.

Leto saw what she had done and finished disengaging the weapon from the dying man's torso. 

The first guard swung and missed giving the elf time to parry his attack. The hand of the man she ran through grabbed her ankle and pulled her to the ground. His hands were slick with blood and she kicked at his head until she ran out of strength.

The elf fell beside her onto his back and blocked the incoming swing. The metal clanked sending burrs through the metal. 

"Alright!" Adria yelled. "I'll do anything you want!"

The guard stopped mid-swing and glared at her.

"I want you to watch."

He continued his swing and met with a blow to the side from the blade in Leto's hand. He staggered back and coughed. A fountain of blood escaped the man's mouth as he fell backwards onto the ground. Leto got to his feet and helped Adria up.

"Watch me kill you, right? Because that's what I just did," he grumbled. He turned to Adria and walked back to the thin heap of cloth by the tree. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she answered with a nod. "You?"

"Better now." He winced abruptly and grabbed his side. "We should get you back to Danarius. He'll have probably woken up from all the noise."

"I'll take care of him. You're my concern right now," she remarked pulling the torn fabric over her shoulders. She knelt down beside him and lifted the cut shirt to see his injuries. She bit her lip at the gash across his mid-section and looked up at him. "You're hurt."

"I'm fine," he insisted.

"You're bleeding. Let me fix it."

"Fix it? How can you do that?"

"You promise not to tell?"

"What?"

She cast her healing spell and shook off the exhaustion that the spell put her in.

"Feel better?"

"Magic? You can use magic?"

"Aye, I can," she answered. "Please don't tell anyone."

"Secrets safe with me... for now."

"For now?"

"Yeah, if you'll tell me about yourself later. I'm tired of all the mystery surrounding you."

"Don't you have someone else you're courting?"

"Doesn't matter, really. I spend more time with you anyways."

"Deal. I'll tell you after we deal with this mess."

XXXXX

The two of them sat on the divan bloodied and ragged. Danarius and the guard captain looked at the pair of them discouragingly. Adria held her gown closed with her hands, while Leto hid the hole in his side. 

"So what happened?" Danarius growled.

"It's my fault, Master," Adria spoke softly. "I needed to get some air and I came upon them. They were drunk and were trying to take advantage of me."

"What about the elf? Where does he come into all of this?" the guard captain asked.

"I defused the situation. It was either that or let them have their way with her. I thought killing them was the safer alternative," the boy answered.

"You killed two hardened veterans to protect her?" Danarius questioned. "That seems greatly farfetched.

"It's true, Master," the weakened girl cooed.

The grown men looked at each other and at the condition of Adria and frowned. There was truth in their words. If Leto hadn't shown up none of them knew exactly what was going to happen until the cleanup happened.

"If what you say is true, then the boy was in the right," Danarius concluded. "Go and get to bed and I'll handle the rest of this." The children both stood and headed for the stairs. "Adria, you realize you are going to have to work off what happened."

The lass cringed and nodded.

"Can I make a suggestion?" the guard captain interrupted. 

"What, captain?" the magister growled.

"Why don't you let me train the boy? He's obviously strong enough to handle to grown men by himself. That and if she does get into trouble like this again, the education will be worthwhile for him. Maybe he'll be able to defend her more thoroughly."

"Thoroughly? He killed your men!"

"You understand what I mean, Master Danarius. She's a handful and with some restraint he could stop this from happening again, before it happens."

"Trust me, my dear Captain. It won't be happening again."

"Please Master Danarius, let him try," Adria begged. "I'll take my licks if it'll give him the chance to do something with himself. He's getting older and it might temper some of that rage he has built up in him."

"Are you sure about this, my dear?" Danarius probed.

"I'd stake my life on it. You'll gain a fighter and I'll gain a more worthy protector."

"Fine, my love. Head to bed and I'll discuss it with the captain."

Adria nodded approvingly and headed up the stairs with Leto. She held his hand as she opened the door to the chamber and only released it when she slunk under the warm covers. Leto sat at her side, nearest her feet and watched her pull the ratty cloth from her body. 

"I didn't get a chance to thank you," she muttered.

"You don't need to," he remarked.

"No. I do."

She leaned over and grabbed a small shirt out of the drawer by the bed and pulled it over her head. It was snug and warm and not so tattered. 

"It's fine. Really," he insisted.

"It's _not_ fine. Really." 

She threw the duvet to the side and crawled onto her hands and knees toward him. She kissed his lips gently and in shock he withdrew.

"What are you doing?"

"You don't like it?"

"No, I do. It's just that-" he stammered rapidly.

"Danarius?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I'm sorry," she muttered, falling back onto her feet.

"There's nothing to be sorry about."

He held her hand and leaned into her kissing her in turn. She couldn't breathe and when she tried it caught in her lungs and refused to escape. The way he tasted was foreign, strange, and begged for longer exploration. Footsteps came to the door and drew the pair apart. Adria pulled the covers over her and laid her head on the pillow. Leto rested at her feet and grinned. 

Danarius came in quietly and locked the door behind him. He returned to his position on the bed beside her and pulled her close to him. It was the first time in a long time that she had accepted being close to someone. The elf slid his hand under the blanket and stroked her inner ankle. His fingers traced the tendon as far as it would go until it got to her calf and back down again. He repeated it in a slower motion that tingled and felt perfectly exquisite.

"Night," she mouthed to him after she yawned.

"Night, Adria," he muttered as he watched her dark eyes close for the final time that night.


	3. Chapter 3

"Please, don't. No more," Adria wept out loud amongst the throngs of spectators. She cradled the boy's head in her lap as Leto stared down at him ready to strike. She had hardly noticed the lad; he had matured so much over the years. He wasn't scrappy, but lean and muscled for a youth of no more than sixteen. Her dress grew damp with sweat and blood, but she held him close shielding him from the killing blow. "Why are you doing this?" she sobbed. "You shouldn't be here."

"If I had won I was going to ask for your release," the boy sputtered.

"I was fine. Everything was fine," she argued. "Please Master Danarius, not him. Let him concede defeat but don't let him kill him. He's all I have left."

XXXXX

_Eighteen hours earlier…_

She had to get away from the multitudes of bodies that flowed in and out of the estate. Laughing escaped through opened doors and spilled onto the gardens in the dead of night. It was overwhelming the way the magisters spoke. The way they looked at her like she was a piece of meat for them to feast on. She inhaled the air and the rapture of solitude filled her. 

She sat on the bench and sipped the fruit endowed wine. There was no way to escape the noise and the heat that smothered her. It was a brief respite from Danarius and Leto. The way they pined for her, each in their own right, had left her unsettled and strangely alienated. She didn't want the attention that seemed to be directed at her. Everyone was dressed in their best and while Danarius had allowed her to be excused for a few simple minutes she couldn't shake the fact that he was near her still. 

Guests from far and wide had come to celebrate the tournament that would come at dawn. Many combatants were reveling in the festivities; the unadulterated segue to the dueling and blood bath that would stain the ground with liters of hot lifeblood. The grass wouldn't be that lush green. It would be trampled and tainted by so many that the once tranquil escape was all too capable of becoming a rotting wasteland.

"Mistress Adria," a man called from the patio. She stiffened and placed the glass beside her. There went the quiet and evasion that she had yearned for since the party began. She rose and curtsied politely as the man and woman approached. "It's interesting that we would find you out here by yourself. Is there trouble?"

Adria shook her head and tried to remember who this stranger was that was addressing her. He seemed so familiar to her. When he first arrived they had locked eyes on each other. He passed amongst the crowds, never taking his eyes off of her. She tried to ignore him and enjoy the delight and spectacles, from dancers and musicians to the blatant disgust for Danarius' show of blood magic to wow the visitants.

"There's no trouble, ser. Just breaking away to catch my breath," she stated. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"It's interesting," the woman said with a shrug. "I don't know about your paramour, but you don't seem to fit into this scenario. You seem different, foreign." She sighed and sized the female up. Her white hair reflected the moon beams in radiant shimmers.   
"You're Fereldan aren't you?"

"I was," Adria admitted with a frown. "It's been so long since I've been there. I don't even know if I can call myself that anymore." Her eye brow crooked at the pair of them. She crossed her arms defensively and stared at them. "Why what's it to you? Who are you?"

"I'm Nevaran, Warden-Commander for the Grey Wardens of Ferelden. This is Anders and-"

"There you are," a man said from the door. He leaned casually in the jamb with a mug clutched tightly in his hand. "Nathaniel and I were looking all over for you."

"Thanks for interrupting me, Alistair. We were just making the introductions," Nevaran snapped.

"We've met before," Anders stated. He smirked at the small woman.

Adria was confused. She had no recollection of this man. Then it hit her all at once. The blonde hair, the piercing amber eyes. He was more rugged now and time dragged deep lines into his face.

"From the ship," she gasped. "You're a Warden now?"

"I am. Strange isn't it?"

"You didn't seem the type to be bound to an organization," Adria said. Nevaran shot a look at the aged mage and shook her head. "What do the Wardens want with me? I'm just a concubine for Danarius. He's not my paramour."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," Anders muttered. 

"We came to see the competition. We'd heard about it and we had to come and see. Luckily, your master was gracious enough to let us come uninvited. Anders is here for his own reasons," Nevaran jumped in breaking the awkward silence that overcame them.

"Commander, do you think I could speak with Adria for a few moments," Anders implored.

"Make it quick, we don't want to keep her from her intended tasks," Nevaran smugly replied.

They waited for the other Wardens to retreat inside before turning their attentions to each other. It was an uncomfortable moment for them. Twelve years had passed for them. The small child matured into a woman. The heinous speaking mage became calmer with age and was none the worse for wear.

"Where have you been?" Adria asked.

"Around. I went back to Ferelden a year after we got here. There wasn't much going on and the politics and struggles that come in this blasted city were harder to take for a mage of my age. You seem to be doing well for yourself."

Adria snorted disapprovingly.

"Sure. If you call sleeping with an abusive, dominating asshole doing well, then yeah, I guess I am. It's not like I haven't had years to come to terms with what happened to my family. Or the fact that I have one friend that is about to fight tomorrow in the coming battle," she scoffed.

"You're worried about him. That's understandable."

"Are any of the Wardens fighting tomorrow?"

"No-o-o-o. Nevaran wouldn't allow it. She's just here for the sport. I came to see if you yet lived."

"Well, I'm alive. Now what?"

"Nothing."

"You sure? Everyone wants something from me," she grumbled.

"Can I speak with you later? We're only staying till after the tournament. I would love to catch up with you."

"It wouldn't be right. I don't have the freedoms or liberties anymore that I used to."

"I understand," he said with a sigh. "Can I get a hug then?"

"Odd request," Adria murmured.

"It's just that. If you don't want to, I'll understand. I just thought I'd show how much I missed you. A day hasn't passed that I haven't thought about you at some point."

"Well, when you put it that way: how can I refuse?" she said with a grin.

She embraced him. It was a gentle gesture that required nothing be given in return. It was affection in its simplest form. She looked over Anders' shoulder and saw Leto staring at her. His eyes were wide and he visibly shook in front of her.

He shot off without a word before she could catch him. She had to find him.

XXXXXX

Tonight was the night he had to get it out of his system. He had to tell her how he felt about her. If he died she would never know. He thought about for many a night as he watched her sleep. It might have been wiser to say nothing and not break her heart if he did indeed fall, but his conscious wouldn't allow for the frightful omission to remain. He questioned him and her and the words that should have been said years ago. She had become so important to him that the thought of losing her completely to Danarius terrified him. 

The magister had concluded the festivities, leaving him to find Adria for the night. He saw two men follow a woman out the front entrance, but he was sure that there was another that had accompanied them. He was nowhere to be found. He searched for the little miss- a term that the guard-captain had lovingly concocted to make her role seem less rought with pain- from room to room. Her last whereabouts were in the direction of the gardens to the back. 

He rushed around drunken partiers, which stumbled and stopped him. They asked him asinine questions that he could hardly answer. It was incoherent slurred speech sprinkled with chuckles and awkward glances. He excused himself as politely as he could and what he saw he could hardly believe. 

Adria, the object of his affection, in the arms of another man. There were no words that could be expressed and he froze in shock. He was angry; infuriated that she would allow another man to be so close to her. A person that she didn't know but for a few minutes. 

Maybe D'lara was right.

He stormed off in a fit of rage. He couldn't bear to look at her any longer. He felt betrayed and wounded. After all the countless nights he listened to the sex driven moans that permeated the dusky night, she still found it in her heart to stab him deeply. All the words she ever uttered came back in a maelstrom of lies and deceit. How could he believe a single word that she said? Flashes of the nights he held her while healers tended her wounds or carrying her to bed when she could no longer move. The adoration and glint of life that shown through those deep eyes when she looked at him were nothing but more manipulation for her to use against him.

He swung the kitchen door open and saw D'lara tending the embers of the fireplace. He'd show that deceitful vixen if it was the last thing he did. Leto grabbed the elven lass by the wrist without a word. He'd waited years to delve into Adria and with the final hopes slipping through his fingers he had to release the frustration that had been pent up for years.

"Where are you taking me?" D'lara squeaked.

"Any which way I can get you," he mutter over his shoulder.

"Finally come to your senses?" she snorted.

"You could say that."

He found himself standing outside the hallway closet at the opposite end of the hall where he knew Danarius would be waiting for Adria. D'lara giggled as he shoved her into the closet and slammed the door behind him. He pinned her up against the wall and hiked the skirt of her dress up. He closed his eyes as he slid into her. It was hot, tight, and not what he had expected. She backed into him hungrily and he was more than happy to oblige her with each thrust he made.

She shuddered and moaned as he pounded her. He was angry and he hated that damned human. Every muscle trembled. His thighs ached and every ounce of pressure filled his gut as he held back the urge to explode. In the dark he pictured Adria. It was she that he was violating. She was the one taking the full brunt of his exertion. He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back. She arched sharply and he groaned at the depths that he was achieving. He was going to win. There was no way around it. 

The door swung open and in the blinding light he saw the shadow of Adria looking at him. Her silhouette was unlike any other. He stopped mid-thrust and they stared at each other. His eyes adjusted to her and as he regained control over himself he stammered incessantly. He couldn't move and he lost the ability to breathe.

"Adria," he stuttered.

She slammed the door in his face. He scrambled to pull his pants up and go after her. His plan had failed and now he felt like shit. He hadn't planned on being found and now that he was discovered fucking another woman- a woman that Adria knew all too well for her hidden motives- he couldn't help but hate himself even more.

"What are you doing?" D'lara questioned.

"I have to go after her," Leto stated.

"Why? Isn't she off to do the same thing to the master?"

"It doesn't matter. I've always been there for the aftermath."

"I doubt she'll want you there this time."

"Whether she does or doesn't I'm still going to…"

"Just forget about her. This is what you wanted," D'lara snapped.

"No," he remarked as he shook his head. "It's not."

He staggered out of the closet and listened to D'lara insult him for his lackluster performance. His mind was clouded and scattered. What if she had went to tell Danarius? What if she was already in his arms seeking a comfort that Danarius would never truly give her? He stood at the door and listened briefly for those all too familiar auditory responses. The door opened and Danarius stood there with a deviant grin on his face.

"Ah, Leto, there was something we'd like to discuss with you," the magister said with glee.

The elf looked past the master and saw Adria smirking at him.

"Yes, Master," Leto responded.

The door closed behind him and locked quickly. 

"My dearest Adria has proposed an interesting new twist this evening to please her master. While I might not wholly agree with it, I think it'd be a splendid idea to end a wonderful night. We might be losing you tomorrow, so you'll be joining us tonight," Danarius explained as he rounded the elf and made his way to Adria. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. 

Leto couldn't take it. He'd never witnessed it and here he stood watching his master and Little Miss kissing passionately. His fingers fiddled with the brass buttons of her dress. She pulled her clips out of her hair and dropped them to the floor. The gown fell to the floor leaving her nude. Danarius cupped her breast and slipped his tongue down the curvature of her neck down to her tender nipple. 

A knot grew in his throat. Adria was watching him. Her head cocked with curiosity. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't help but stare in horror as Danarius disrobed and laid her across the bed. He was beckoned to them and ordered to strip. He wasn't allowed to touch her. All he wanted to do was feel her, but he wasn't given the option. Her head hung off the bed, but she was fixated on him as the magister mounted her. She winced softly as he began to move in her. 

White teeth peeked through as she bit her lip. He was disgusted, but aroused by it. Her breasts heaved as she came. Her eyes rolled and resumed their piercing glares at him. He had to touch himself. He was becoming hard and the soft glow of sweat blotted against her skin made the scene more erotic. He was firm and when her mouth opened as she gasped he pictured inserting his throbbing member into it. Letting her lips enclose around him. He wanted to experience the pulsating through her lips as her tongue danced across his head hungrily.

Danarius called him to him as he slammed his hips into hers. She yelped in pain but remained in time with him. Leto joined cautiously. He still couldn't take his eyes off of her. He could smell her in the air as Danarius kissed him. He couldn't help but grunt when her leg caressed his cock. Her hand searched his thigh until it hit its mark. She squeezed it and in a heartbeat he thought he was going to explode on her.

The magister pulled out of his mistress and led his head to his rock hard manhood. He could smell her musk on him. He was slick with her and he hungrily lapped up her fluids. Danarius grunted approvingly and his head fell back. Adria slipped between Leto's legs and he was wracked with an excitement he'd never felt when he felt the tip of her tongue touch his engorged head. She suckled him and took as much of him in as she could. His hands felt the moist parts of her and slid his fingers into her wet hole. She arched as his thumb nimbly rubbed her clit in a circling motion.

Danarius pulled back and set him on the floor as he set Leto before her. He slid into him and he groaned as he tore and stretched to accommodate him. He could feel the pulsing and as Adria pinched her nipples and watches as the magister rode him, the vulnerability they were sharing was more powerful than the act itself. Danarius grabbed her legs and led the elf into her. She gasped and pumped her hips as she rode his shaft. He wanted to fill her up, but he resisted. He wanted to endure this for as long as he could. Her velvety textures were nothing like he'd imagined. 

He was losing himself to the ecstasy as his hips slammed into her. He was going to enjoy her in every conceivable way. Danarius gripped his shoulder while Leto flipped her around and slid into her tight hole. He reveled in it. The way she did the work and rode him hard. She was screaming as her skin grew slick. Their master pulled out and lay on the bed. He sat Adria on his face and devoured her. He knew that he was entering the homestretch. He inserted himself into Danarius and stroked him. Adria met his hands and kissed as he helped ply her handiwork. She spit into her hand and swirled her fingers across his head. Danarius groaned as they worked him together. It was hot and the way she tasted was far better than the first time they had kissed. Her swollen lips- from constant biting- were begging to be kissed. He obliged their request and hungrily tasted her.

Their hands grew sticky and wet as Danarius came. Leto didn't want to let go, he wanted to end his night in Adria. He slid out of Danarius and pulled her to the side. Danarius kissed her as he slid into her again. He hated how the magister was blocking his view of her beautiful face. When he pulled away he lost it, spilling into her at a frantic pace. He collapsed beside her, out of breath and exhausted.

The magister pulled her close and buried his head in her neck. Adria looked at him and frowned. He hadn't noticed it at the time, but the look behind those eyes was one of no emotion. She was empty; devoid of any emotion. He realized then and there that this wasn't an intimate affair, but one of contempt that she made him participate in. She had used him, just Danarius had and how the master used her. She had known all along that he had remained at the door and listened to the painful trysts that she had to make from night to night. She knew that it scarred him and that his imagination had run to places it never should have treaded. She wanted him to watch it.

XXXXXX

Adria was the last one to awaken. Her body was overcome with pain. Every muscle screamed in agony as she squirmed out from under the twisted and tangled sheets. The room reeked of sweat and semen. It was a familiar smell that greeted her in the morning like the coming dawn did. She heard many voices from down below. Spectators were gathering on the lawn in preparation for the day's tournament.

She hurried out of bed and readied herself the best she could without aid. She called to one of the slaves and asked if they could tie her into her dress. She felt horrible for even asking, but she had to be down there to make her appearance. She fixed her hair and applied her makeup and marched down the stairs. She saw Leto sharpening his blade in a far corner. His eyes diverted from hers when he noticed her and continued prepping himself for the coming battles.

Danarius smiled when she walked into the dining hall. Three other magisters were conversing with him about the events that were to follow. The agenda was quite clear. Battles to the death; winner take all and the boon of their choosing. She watched as unfamiliar slaves bolted from one location to another after their masters' various demands. A red headed elf approached Leto. They spoke briefly and a smile she hadn't seen from him appeared.

It wasn't something she had come accustomed to. He rarely smiled and when he did it was in sarcastic smirks that either meant he wasn't paying attention or what she had to say was inane and silly. A slave approached her and offered her a tea cup. She swigged it down quickly and followed Danarius out to the covered dais where they would watch the tournament.

A red dawn hung above, burning away the final embers of night. The crickets ended their serenades and she found herself lost amongst the numerous groups of people. She saw the Wardens from the night before. Anders stood beside Nevaran with a smile on his face when she acknowledged him with a small wave. Nevaran elbowed him in the ribs when she saw the exchange. It was fair to say that the day wasn't going to end well for anyone, but for one person.

She hated the violence. It was pointless and more degrading to have so many approve of such a spectacle. Adria was lost in thought about what would happen to the champion. Danarius had researched an ancient ritual that had cost him hundreds of sovereigns to obtain the ingredients to attempt. As for the intended winner, well, it wasn't going to be the most positive events for them. A full on bodyguard and slave to one of the most powerful magisters in Minrathous; while it sounded like a boon fit to anyone who wanted to have the glory under their belts, it didn't explain the possible side effects of the rite.


	4. Chapter 4

They watched the combatants fight until the sun hung high in the azure skies. Clouds were forming off in the distance. Round after round led to cheering and bets from the nobility. It was a dance in blood sport. Severed limbs had drawn blanks in the pit of her stomach. She pictured her father when a man had lost his arm in a clean sweep. The glint of steel, the protruding bone and here she sat again the age of six. The man looked at her as Leto slashed the man across the throat. His head flopped back unnaturally. He fell to the side and the sound of whistling and gurgling erupted into the air in a morbid cadence. It was rhythmic as the blood gushed to the ground around him. She sat motionless to the action and waited for the final whispers of breath fade away.

The finals were upon them. She watched Leto take the field, followed by a strapping young man. They approached the grand stand as Danarius told them that this was the final bout. The elf looked over at her and nodded when asked if he was ready to proceed. The younger boy turned to her and bowed and acknowledged that he was prepared. 

Adria leaned on the railing to get a better view as the fighters got into position. Both were armored and wielding two-handed weapons. The human appeared far more fearsome than Leto did, but he still carried the look of a child. They lunged at each other. They scrambled across the field and swung. The clash of steel reverberated through the zephyr and Leto made a wild swing that dug the blade deep into the boy's side.

He coughed blood and fell to his knees. The elf was winding up for the killing blow when the boy met her eye. She grew frantic when she realized who the boy was. She dashed onto the field and slid in the grass. Her hands were painted in blood, but she didn't care. She wiped them off on her red gown and fell to the boy's side.

"Sister," he gagged through bubbles of blood.

"Hush, Carver" she insisted. "Please, don't. No more," Adria wept out loud amongst the throngs of spectators. She cradled the boy's head in her lap as Leto stared down at him ready to strike. She had hardly noticed the lad; he had matured so much over the years. He wasn't scrappy, but lean and muscled for a youth of no more than sixteen. Her dress grew damp with sweat and blood, but she held him close shielding him from the killing blow. "Why are you doing this?" she sobbed. "You shouldn't be here."

"If I had won I was going to ask for your release," the boy sputtered.

"I was fine. Everything was fine," she argued. "Please Master Danarius, not him. Let him concede defeat but don't let him kill him. He's all I have left."

XXXXX

The crowd was silent. She held the boy so close he thought he would disappear. The small peek of intestine emerged from the deep cut in his armor. 

_Carver._

It was a name of a person he knew very little of, but Adria had tried to explain to the best of her ability what that name meant to her. A brother, like him; one that was trying to fight to gain his family's freedom, just as he was. 

The fluid that surround the siblings flowwd freely now and the boy was growing pale with each passing breath. Adria held her hand to his exposed entrails and muttered softly to the shivering boy. He clenched her hand and shook his head.

"Please Leto, don't. Don't," she begged. She sprung to her feet and approached the group of people. Her face was a shade of white. There was no color to her complexion. "Please Nevaran, help him. Conscript him. Do something."

He looked at the dying lad and his heart broke. Carver had his attention directed at him as his sister argued with the Wardens. He frowned and sighed. He didn't want to kill him, but when the boy nodded for him to proceed to end his suffering, it took every bit of energy to yield to his request. He gave a final look to the frantic woman and plunged the wide blade through his chest.

Carver quaked as the point of the sword hit the ground beneath him. He gave his final breath and fell limp. The audible gasp rumbled through the crowds until it hit Adria. Nevaran's hand covered her mouth in shock and the one named Anders had reached out to restrain his mistress. 

She turned and spotted the blade still protruding through her deceased brother's chest. She glared at him. A hatred that burned stronger than Void pierced the Veil and settled deep within her. By the Maker, he didn't want to do it, but there was nothing he could do. He was honor bound to end his life and the end result was to betray the woman he cared for in the worst possible way.

She refused to move. Her eyes were wild with rage, but she remained still. He didn't know what she was going to do. He hoped that Anders could contain her until she calmed, but in a flash, she broke away from him and retrieved her brother's fallen sword. She drug it behind her as she ran at him.

"Adria, what are you doing?" he questioned as he blocked her incoming swing.

"You might as well kill me too. You destroyed all I had left, you son of a bitch!" she screamed.

She ran after him and swung uncontrollably at her target. The darkened skies began to open up on them. It pelted both of them, but the crowds remained steadfast as she screamed at him. She raged and burned and when she had expended all of her energy he disarmed her. She was bloody, battered; her dress was torn and sopping in the downpour.

"I'm sorry," he yelled through the roaring thunder.

"So am I," she muttered. She spun away from him and launched a fireball at her brother's corpse. "He deserved better than this."

Danarius stormed the field with two guards. She fell to her knees in exhaustion. Hushed whispers rumbled through the crowd as they watched the guards grab her by the arms and hoisted her to standing.

"Magic?!" Danarius bellowed.

"Yes, magic," she muttered. She glanced over her shoulder at Leto and shrugged. "What about it?"

Danarius backhanded her across the face. She fell in the muddy water and was forced to stand again. It didn't matter to her anymore what he did to her. He yelled at her for hiding it from him and when she argued back he socked her in the stomach. She gasped and fell to her knees. The onlookers stared at her while Anders had to be restrained by the other Wardens.

He couldn't take it anymore. He spied the blood spattering with the rain and when she lay on the ground motionless he feared that she was dead. Her fingers twitched slowly as she regained consciousness. 

"Take her inside. Now!" he ordered. The guards picked her up and dragged her through the mud. Her head hung forward, but as she passed him she glanced up at him. "Well done, Leto. What boon would you like to receive?"

The elf looked down at Adria and then to his sister and mother.

"I want my sister and mother released from their bondage," he answered.


	5. Chapter 5

_"Why won't you give up, Adria?" Leto's voice asked over the crackle of burning wood._

_"Would you prefer I did? You want me to lie down and die? After everything I've done, you still think I'm that weak," she mocked._

_The elf's footsteps neared her and she could smell his sweat and breath. His worn hand caressed her cheek: from her chin to the blindfold that shielded her vision._

_"Of course I don't want you to die. How long can you keep up with what they continue to do on a constant basis? I can't stand by and watch it anymore. You've withered and this façade you keep up for their appearances exerts more power on them. They are trying to break you and when they fail you infuriate them."_

_"I like the way it hurts, elf," she grumbled._

_"You're lying. You aren't protecting anyone anymore."_

_"I failed in that aspect again. You killed him. When I get out of here I'm going to kill you. Blood for blood."_

_"You really think you're getting out of here alive?"_

_"Why not? If I live: I keep their memories alive. If I die: I find the peace I've been aching…" He pressed his lips to hers and let the gentle sway of the chains sing a morose tune of sorrow. His hands searched her in patterns of rough excitement and desire. She pulled away from him with lips that quivered rapidly and she shuddered. "I wish you were real to me."_

_Control. Abandon it._

XXXXX

He refused to go down into the dungeon. He couldn't see her. It was the last thing he wanted to watch. Her condition became the topic of many on the estate. She lived in a diminished capacity. Adria was slowly dying in a cold and confining prison. He never thought she would resort to using magic in front of Danarius, but with what he did, he couldn't help but feel slightly culpable for her outlandish reaction. 

He couldn't escape the stares from Hadriana and Danarius as they walked down the stairs to the deep dark. He always remained on the top step and listened to torture and tribulations. The crack of the whip made him wince with each repeated blow. He never heard a sound from her. Her chains jingled but an auditory response was never one that made it to his ears. 

They taunted her and yelled. Hadriana laughed after the sound of a bone popping. The magister had refused her nourishment for days at a time and sent D'lara down only once or twice a day to hydrate her. The elven woman goaded her and mocked her subtle moans. She took her available chance at exacting her own punishments on the restrained woman.

Many a night he lay at Danarius' feet and looked at the empty pillow that was abandoned by his mistress' head. Her scent had faded into a daydream's fantasy. At some points of the day he heard her laughing, and on those same eves he heard her weeping. His fearfulness kept him away from the one he'd adored for so long. He knew that she'd probably still hate him for what happened to her brother. He couldn't help it. She knew the rules as much as any of them. Only one could leave victorious in that situation. Whether he had any real desire to release her from her servitude or the lives of the ones who bore and cared for him wasn't up for debate.

He owed it to his mother to let her exist as a free woman for once in her life. Her experience of what free air would feel and taste like should be his parting gift to her for all she had done for him. Adria, on the other hand, was out of reach for him to make such a statement. If she was sent away, he'd never see her again. Or would she be really willing to leave after everything? It was much easier to decide the fates of his loved ones than the one he lusted for.

He held the door ajar and listened to her. The rattle of her chains and the soft strains of her voice breaking through the darkness made his heart sink. She coughed between verses and broke the ambience of the vocals. The elf smiled when the dirge completed in a hoarse whisper. How the Maker could have given her such a gift in exchange for what she had to live with now was beyond him. 

"What are you doing?" Hadriana snapped from behind him. She crossed her arms and sneered at Leto. He hoped that Adria would remain silent long enough for the woman to go away, but the subdued tones of her voice crept up the stairs to them. "She's singing? She was ordered to be silent," she bellowed and shoved the elf away from the door. Her footsteps softened the further down the stairs she went. 

Finally she disappeared and the tone of soft chords turned to harsh inhales and hard smacks. Hadriana was doing a number on her, but Adria refused to bend to her. He took two steps and stopped at the sound of ripping material. There was a short exchange between the two women followed by another volley of strikes. Adria wretched and gagged and all went silent in seconds. He held his breath and strained to hear what was going on. Before he could gain any certainty as to the well-being of the prisoner Hadriana appeared with a satisfied expression on her face. "Get back upstairs! You have an early day ahead of you," she ordered with a snap of her fingers.

XXXXX

Sleep evaded him like a faster prey that slithered into the ether. After what he'd saw and heard that afternoon, he had to see her. She had to know that he was still there. It took every ounce of courage to head for the door to the dungeons below. In his mind, flashes of horrific scenes played out in gory detail. He thought about everything that had been left unsaid and untested. Leto didn't care whether she was still angry about what transpired; he had to do it. He was nervous for the morning, what if he didn't survive it? The same haunting doubts flooded him as he unlatched the door and took the first of many steps down the dimly lit stairs. 

They were cold, damp and slick from the stagnated water that formed from musty air that refused to circulate. It was thick and humid when he reached the bottom. He searched the room and saw the table where Danarius did his sacrifices still caked in dried blood. It rotted and seeped into the grain of thick tabletop like the very veins that channeled his bodily fluids. His breath hitched when he saw her. She was knelt over her knees; hands bound behind her back and shackled to heavy chains that attached to the wall. He couldn't move any further. She appeared to be dead from where he stood.

"Maybe I'm too late," he muttered to himself. Her small hands twitched and he bolted to her uncontrollably. A relieved sigh escaped him. She yet lived and he thanked the Maker for it. He knelt down in front of her, his hands went to touch her, but hesitation and fear kept him from feeling her. Her breathing was shallow and undetectable. "Adria." He took her in and let the first touch of his fingertips hit her back. She cringed and muttered something. Her muffled voice came to him in waves of spite and venom.

Adria sat up, but her head hung low. She swayed gently in dizzying undulations. He took her chin in his hand and lifted her to look at him. She was gagged and blindfolded. Her white teeth dug into the dingy rag that wrapped around her head. Splotches of brown and red stained the yellowed cloth that restrained her from speaking. Her pale skin was a far shade brighter than it usually was. He slid his finger between her supple cheek and the rag and pulled it down. Blood smeared down her chin and caked her lips. 

"Leto?" she breathed weakly. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you," he answered as he pulled the blindfold away from her eyes. She grimaced and recoiled from the onslaught of light that invaded her sight.

"Put it back on!" she yelped. He hurried to shield her eyes again and sighed in disappointment that he wouldn't get to look into her eyes again. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he murmured. "I have to tell you something and I might not get another chance to do it after tomorrow."

"What is it?" she questioned. She shifted her weight slowly and let out a sigh. 

"That night that we…," he coughed nervously and looked away from her. "It shouldn't have happened. None of it should have played out the way it did. I was angry and hurt that you were with someone else. It was childish and stupid and it's my fault that everything that happened after that led to being here."

"Did it?" she scoffed. "Let me tell you something about what's been happening since I decided to put myself here. The night with Anders was innocent. I hadn't seen him in years and it was a fluke that I did get the chance to speak with him. Do I blame you for running away and dealing with that _knife-eared little bitch_? No. But what happened after that was a distorted attempt at revenge. I didn't conceive the whole idea by myself and I'm pretty sure it was Danarius' intention to begin with. 

You were his first love long before I got here. There's no doubt in my mind about that. We both didn't want to lose you and it seems that our fears were misplaced. You rightfully won. I never wanted to use you like that and I had hoped that one day - in the far off future – that maybe I'd be able to partake in you freely. Those nights still haunt me. The caresses that led us further down the verboten path." 

Her voice cracked as she spoke and new spots of red bled through the blindfold. She sniffled and whooped as she violently inhaled. It gurgled and rumbled with moist fluids backing it up. He patted her back comfortingly and noted the blood stained bandages that enveloped both of her hands.

"What have they been doing to you?" he uttered.

"Using my own blood against me," she snorted. "Every day it's something new with them; whether it's the beating and rapes from Danarius and Hadriana or your girlfriend taking the reins and exacting her own form of torture on me it doesn't change the fact that I did you wrong. 

What happened to Carver was unforeseeable. It hurt in ways you couldn't imagine. I figured it was your retribution for what happened the night before, but I was wrong. Everything was horribly wrong that day. And we have to live with that. I'm not asking for forgiveness. I never wanted that. I'm proud that you succeeded in your task and that your mother and sister will be free."

He wanted her to stop talking and just listen. These were his words that he should have been saying but the way she shuddered in his hands made her more vulnerable than ever. He'd never seen such weakness in her. Her exposition of her thoughts and feelings were laid out before him like an intricate map with no real destination.

"I would have forsaken my life if it meant you would be free," he said. 

His thumb brushed her lips and felt her hot breath escape her.

"Take it off," she murmured.

"Take _what_ off?"

"The blindfold. Take it off." His eyes narrowed on the cloth as his thumb caught it. He stopped and in his anxiousness withdrew his hand. He didn't want to hurt her again. Her shrill voice echoed in his ears. "It'll be alright."

He peeled the blindfold back and let her adjust again. Adria's eyes fluttered rapidly to the bright light and shut all together. After several minutes her eyes squinted and there he saw them; the same fires that always burned. She was still alive in spirit. He couldn't control himself anymore. He pulled her close to him and kissed her. Their tongues danced and he experienced what it was like to delve into her being with wanton disregard for their master. He held her close and placed her head to his chest. She began to cry. She shook against him and in a small way he died as he embraced her.

"Adria." The soft weeping stopped as she nuzzled into him. "Tomorrow is the ritual." She looked up at him. Her cheeks ran small streams of red that dripped to the floor between them. "I don't know what's going to happen, but I will be here for you afterwards no matter what. Danarius shouldn't be holding you too much longer. He's starting to miss you. You'll be back by his side in no time. It's where you should be. Not in this pit. Not bound in chains and left to fester alone. And I will be right there to take care of you like I always have."

"I understand."

He kissed her again and sighed heavily.

"I need to get back upstairs. I will be back to see you tonight."

He slid the blindfold back over her eyes and mourned the loss of not being able to look into them again till that night. He began to place the gag back in her mouth when she pulled away.

"Leto, I…"

"I know. And I for you."

He slipped the rag between her lips and gave her a final kiss on the cheek. He rose up and started for the stairs and away from her. He didn't want to leave her alone, not like this. He gave her a final look over and shook his head in sorrow. Neither of them could say the words. They were imprisoned deep within them. They didn't want to be left so exposed when it would have been the most natural thing for both of them.

XXXXX

"It's not going to be that much longer," Danarius said. His eyes fixated on the number of magisters that hurried around the large room. Leto shivered at the cold air. The blue iridescent glow in large flasks lit the stone work on the floor. The pungent aroma of sweat invaded his nostrils leaving him to believe that this place was so much more than he first perceived it to be. 

This ritual, or rite, seemed to be a far cry from what Danarius had tried to describe. He stood in the room in his undergarments and felt the magister's hand come down on him with care and affection. He was trying to ebb his trepidation, but it failed. There was no escaping it now. His thoughts lingered on Adria, still bound and leashed like an animal. Deprived of light and sight. She had looked so frail under the orangish glow of the firelight that when he looked at her she was a ghost. 

A hooded magister in flowing robes approached the men. He held out a long blade and presented it to his master with a ceremonial bow. He knew it was time. The way the magisters encircled a single point in the room. He looked to Danarius for what to do. It was a frightful presentation. They chanted and poured the liquid into a small pool in the center of the room. It burned brightly and crackled and boiled as they stirred it.

"What am I to do?"

"Follow me," Danarius said.

He led the boy to a rack just beside the men speaking in their foreign and muffled tongues and shackled him to chains suspended high above. Leto didn't fight. He was confused. What did being tied down have to do with anything? They masked him and told him that it was for his protection. 

His answer came with quick and penetrating slashes across his legs. Danarius carved him to ribbons while another magister approached and collected the blood into an urn. He felt like he was being bled dry by him. Was he being murdered for any particular reason? Maybe he found out about his secret rendez-vous with Adria. If it was the latter what would happen to her?

Hot fluid spattered his face as he reeled in agony. He writhed and bucked the deeper the blade sunk into his flesh. He was hot and cold. He smoldered with anger and irrational thoughts burst through as he swore that he would kill Danarius. The magister laughed maniacally as he worked. Surgical precision and dexterity led the finely made grooves to his torso.

He turned his head and vomited as his whole body seized under the stress. He convulsed and foamed at the mouth. He couldn't speak. He couldn't scream. The only sound that he emitted was the gurgling that had rested in his throat. Danarius continued to work; paying no attention to the noises that were being produced.

He went black and came to in spurts of mania. Someone had a firm grasp on his head. He struggled and felt the sliver and slide of a wet blade cutting into his face. He groaned and moaned until the blade was finally retracted. 

"Adria," he murmured.

The fresh slices of flesh split and gushed when his mouth moved.

"What about her?" Danarius asked.

"She needs to be free."

"She will be. Don't worry," the magister said softly.

He was lifted into the air and felt the harsh boiling liquid hit his skin. He was being submerged in it. His back screamed as his flesh burned and sloughed off. He was melting. 

_I'm going to die._

"He needs to be further into the lyrium," Danarius snapped.

He could see the glow piercing his eye protection and smell it. It was strange and hinted of magic. Magic. They were using it on him. He flailed as his head sunk beneath the molten liquid. He tried to hold his breath, but his energy waned faster with the exhaustion setting in. He wanted to die. He wished he had. Everything was fading. His heart beat was slowing. He hoped that it would stop. 

_What about…_

_…that girl…_

_What girl?_

_I'm not certain._

_Who am I?_

_I. Don't. Know._

XXXXX

A warm sliver of metallic moved under her chin and jolted Adria from her slumber. She could barely move from the atrophy of her arms and legs and the weight of her head left her chin buried in her chest. She was suffocating from her stagnated position. Her knees throbbed from the prolonged grinding into the stone. She couldn't see in the perpetual blackness. Her senses went into overdrive to replace the missing sensation. It was frigid in the depths of the dungeons. She welcomed the fading warmth of metal as it joined the rest of the ambient temperatures that surrounded her.

The metal of her manacles dug into her flesh like teeth from a rabid hound. Warm liquid quelled quickly into an icy stream of fluid that vanished into the darkness. She was fatigued both physically and mentally. Her stomach, empty for days, had shrank and purged even the smallest sips of water she was allowed. She greeted death, accepting it for what it was: an end to all things that had tormented her.

Her gag was forcefully removed from her lips, leaving her cracked lips bleeding.

"You seem well enough," Hadriana muttered. 

Her smell was far more intoxicating than the musty smell of rotting granite and stagnated water. Adria licked her lips, still tasting old blood from newly created wounds. Her eyes rolled in her head when she tried to chuckle, but stopped short of coughing up blood. The heavy wrapping that shielded her eyes stood fast. She was vertiginous and wretched violently when the world refused to stop spinning. The taste of bile crept into her throat and invaded her olfactory as she swallowed hard with her parched throat.

"Come to visit me again," she whispered with a harsh smirk. "I thought you had done your worst to me."

"Is that what you think this is about?" the woman snapped as the point of the sharpened steel dug deeper into her throat.

"You're not going to break me, Hadriana. Do your worst," Adria spat.

She feigned a smile and her head hit her chest again.

"I'm not here to hassle you, Adria. I'm here because Danarius sent me," the woman said.

"Why?" the semi-conscious woman remarked as she lifted her head.

"On the contrary, he doesn't have it in his heart to kill you. He thinks that you being down here doesn't do you justice. He wants you back at his side."

She could hear her pacing along with a pair of bare feet entering the room. She could smell the woodsy aroma of Leto as he walked past and gripped the chain that had bound her in place.

"Is that so?" Adria snorted.

"It is. Look I don't agree with this, but he thinks he has a way of curbing your abilities."

"Curbing them? You mean like tranquility?" Adria said with a frown.

"No. I'm not at liberty to say. All I can say is that I am going to enjoy watching what he does to you," the woman's cold tone sent a shiver up the weakened woman's spine.

"It'd be far cheaper to kill me don't you think?" she grumbled as the shackle was released from her around her bony wrist.

"What do you think he's going to do to you?" Hadriana remarked with a malevolent tone. "We have a friend who wants to see you."

"Is it Leto? Did he survive the ritual?" Adria fired off quickly with exuberance.

"Go ahead and take the blindfold off of her," the woman commanded.

The shock of bright light turned the bodies into shadows. She slammed her eyes shut. They burned like the flames of the holy brazier in the Chantry. She wanted to rub away the burning and met with heavy resistance from her restraints. 

"How long have I been here," Adria asked through teary eyes.

"Weeks," Hadriana answered.

Her eyes adjusted and saw the lithe shadow of an elf standing over her. The stale smell of leather and steel hit her and she muttered in disgust. It transformed that favored smell of her companion into a heavily wreaked mess.

She lifted her eyes up with curiosity. Her heart was going a mile a minute. She was so glad to see that he was alright. Horror took hold when the bright sheen of white hair hid his more defining features. This wasn't Leto. 

_Who the hell is this?_

"That's not Leto," Adria grumbled.

"No. This is Fenris," Danarius stated as he came into the room.

"What happened to Leto? Where is he?" the woman demanded as she tried to stand.

The elf slammed his hand on to her shoulder and forced her back to her knees. He raised the sword to her throat again and glared.

"It's alright, Adria. Everything will come to light in due time." He turned to Hadriana and nodded. "Get her up and ready. She has a date that she can't afford to miss."

XXXXX

She had to be carried to their destination. Under the cover of darkness they met with Master Danarius and other magisters that were preparing for the ritual. They laid her on her stomach on a table of metal and shackled her wrists. She was outstretched and bare for all the world to see. 

"Are you alright, my dear," Danarius cooed just above her.

"I'm confused," Adria groaned.

"About Fenris? He's alright. He spent a couple days in recovery, but he seems to be adjusting just fine."

"Is he now? That's not Leto. What did you do to him?" 

She glared at the elf that loomed just off in the shadows. The heavy sword hung at his side. She could barely see him. He looked like Leto, but that wasn't the one who had been there for her for all those years. This was someone new. A stranger and one she didn't like.

"Hush, darling. It won't matter afterwards anyway," he whispered in her ear.

"Afterwards?"

"Master Danarius, we're ready," a voice called.

"Splendid," the magister said with an unsettling lilt in his voice.

"Do you want to put her under for this?" the mysterious voice asked.

She felt her master's hand on her back. He was tracing different patterns across her bare skin on her shoulder blade.

"No. She'll be alright," Danarius remarked. He slid a thick piece of wood between her teeth. "You'll need that, my love."

She gave a muffled 'why' and felt a cold sharp instrument cut into her skin. She groaned as hot blood flowed down the side and on to the table. Her teeth clenched against the foreign object. Her eyes searched the room through cloudy tears. Her vision was going red and all she thought while a thick finger slithered between her flesh and muscles was: where was Leto?

The digit wiggled and more agony consumed her. She was hazy while they worked her body. Chanting echoed around the room. It was a strange dialect from what she'd learned. Certain words she could make out barely. "Bind… restrict… damage." All of them put together were not a good sign. Adria couldn't take it anymore. They closed her deepened wound and searing hot metal caused her to spit the bit out of her mouth. 

She wailed as the smell of burnt flesh entered her senses.

"Make it stop!" she screamed.

"It's almost over," Danarius stated.

"Damn you, Danarius," she breathed as she began to lose consciousness.

"Don't worry, my dear. After this: everything will be the way it should be," he cooed. "Rest."

Her eyelids grew heavy. The pain didn't stop. She couldn't fight it and in bouts of anger and hatred she sobbed. She didn't want to sleep. She wanted to be released. She begged and bargained, but her words fell on deaf ears. She gave the elf a final look before conceding her will into the hands of her master. 

He had made it into the light. His hand rested on the pommel of his sword and watched as they unshackled her and rolled her over. She was numb, but her eyes never left the elf and his shocking white hair that hid his eyes.

_The eyes. O, Maker! I know those eyes. Why isn't he doing anything? I can't take much more of this. Please, Leto. Make them stop. Why do you look at me like that? Don't you know who I am? Remember what we said? The experiences we shared?_

She couldn't bear to look at him anymore. It killed her to see those blank eyes unmoved by her struggles. Danarius placed his hand over her eyes and shielded her from what was about to happen. The room went black. Ringing shrieked in her head and then nothing.

_Control abandoned._


	6. Chapter 6

She wasn't like any other slave he'd met in the compound. She was worldly, stubborn, and adorned in finery that would make the richest magisters envious at the cost. She was admired harshly by those that served Danarius. He was unaware by how much power she wielded in her words when she spoke to the others. She was kind to most and pitiless to few. Hadriana was the only other person who asserted as much will as she did. It was an odd prospect for him to take in.

He knew she was a slave by the branded markings that were seared into her flesh in flecks of white and red. The obscure dialect and symbols that encircled the runes gave the same faint shimmer as his markings had. Regardless, she was unlike anything he'd seen before. He questioned himself about her apparent reason to be here. Her accent was strange and not of the Imperium. Listening to her speak to Danarius was like listening to a poem that held a cloistered message within.

He didn't know what to make of her when she glanced at him with hurt filled eyes. His eyes followed her from one end of the room to the other. He remained unnoticed for as long as he could, until she neared the magister seated in the arm chair beside him. She knelt at his side and rested her head in his lap and closed her eyes. He could only watch as their master began to unbind her from the form fitting gown. He lifted her on to his lap and kissed the nape of her neck. He slid his hands beneath her bodice and she moaned softly.

Fenris grew angry. Irrational feelings that had no place being evoked by her had held him in place. He knew that Danarius had called for the fragile woman and that was why she was there, but for him to witness his master manipulate her body in such a way was unsettling. He turned his attention to the fires that burned in the hearth. The way they danced and lapped at the masonry in strokes of unbridled hunger didn't help in his escape. Her cries grew louder and the frustration had become a raging inferno of anger. He forbade himself from taking action. It wasn't his place to stop it.

_What is this?_

He was undecided by the manifestation of emotions. They weren't necessary for the situation and his blood boiled with fire within his veins. He refused to let her get to him. It was his duty, his right to be who he was. 

She rested her head on Danarius' shoulder and locked eyes on him. The magister was panting rapidly in his seat. His arms wrapped around her as he held her in place. More rumblings from within made him frantic. Was she deliberately doing this to irritate him or was it as simple as doing what she was made to do?

His response came one stormy night as he paced the sparsely decorated room. Free of the collar he wore during his waking hours, he rubbed the sore spots on his shoulders and neck. He was frustrated, confused by this woman with eyes that could drill through stone with but a single glance. It was disturbing to think that he could have some semblance of reality that marked his thoughts about a woman who belonged to another.

It was unheard of and deceitful. He was betraying the person he owed everything to. She never spoke to him, only acknowledged him with her eyes. He couldn't recall her name. It was something that evoked emotion, but not his own. It was something that made his breath hitch uncontrollably when she entered a room. This mysterious woman was the key to all the answer that he dare not utter even to himself.

The door swung open and Hadriana stood in the threshold. She glared at the elf with deadly intent as she moved toward him. Her slippers squeaked as she grabbed him and shoved him out of the room. She led him down the corridor and past Danarius' room. One of the slaves saw the two of them going down the stairs and dropped a pile of linens to the floor.

"We're going to have a bit of fun this evening since Danarius is indisposed at the moment. Dearest Adria is making use of what the Maker gave her," she muttered grimly.

"Where are we going?" he asked as she unlocked the door to a narrow hallway that led into an alcove.

"You'll see. I've waited patiently for Danarius to give me the approval I needed to continue my studies," she stated. "Get on the table and prepare for what it feels like to have someone holding your life in your hands."

XXXXX

Adria slid through the barely open door and latched it as quietly as she could. The noise sounded deafening in the dead of night. She held her breath and waited to see if Danarius was going to pursue her for leaving the room again. When nothing transpired, she slowly exhaled and headed down the hallway. 

Fenris' door was wide open, but was strangely vacant given the time that it was. She stepped in and looked around and saw his weapon leaned against the wall. She had never been in the closet-like space before. The bed had been unused. The tray of food that she had sent to him was absent. A quick glance at the door told her why:

_This slave is not to receive nourishment for the duration I deem appropriate- Hadriana_

"Bitch," Adria muttered as she shut the door and ripped the note from the wood.

"Mistress Adria," a voice called out of breath.

She turned in the direction of the voice and saw one of the young elven slaves running up to her.

"Calm yourself. What's wrong?"

"It's Hadriana. She took Fenris down to her study. I think she's going to do something to him," the lass gasped. She bent down and coughed violently.

"I'll see to it," Adria assured her.

"Mistress, you need to hurry. She had been gloating about it all day," the elf warned.

"Don't worry. What's the worst that could happen?"

She hurried down the stairs and through the opened door. She was panting when she threw open the door and saw Fenris strapped to a table in the center of the room. Hadriana was nowhere in sight as she ran to the elf's side. Adria fought with the metal restraints but couldn't pry them apart. Her hands became slick with sweat as she continued to work.

A sinking feeling hit her as she looked down at Fenris. He wasn't speaking to her at all. He was glued to someone else. She turned to see Hadriana standing behind her. She sprung up and blocked the woman's view of Fenris.

"Come to watch the show?" Hadriana smirked.

"Release him. Now," Adria snapped.

"I didn't just bind him just to undo it when you order me to," Hadriana growled. She cuffed the defiant woman and shoved her aside. "I've had just about enough of your talking back."

"I will not be complicit in your sadistic experiments, witch!"

"It's not like you can stop me. As a matter of fact, let's see if what Danarius said was true."

The room became frigidly cold. Adria saw her breath as Hadriana incanted loudly. The air swirled around the three of them. The smell was ozone and ice. Frost grew on the shackles that bound Fenris. She darted to release him before the mage released her spell.

Her body grew hot. Fire crept through her core and hit her brain in waves of agonizing tremors. Her knees buckled as they weakened under her weight. She grabbed her head to keep it from splitting in two. The room spun and flickered out while Fenris' screams echoed in the confined space. Another blow landed against her. She struggled to stay conscious. A crack of lightning shot through the air…

XXXXX

_Three children giggling in noon time sun. Heavenly laughter and peace. A woman wiping her hands on her apron with a smile. A man running up behind them laughing. Small shadows chased their every move._

XXXXX

A stir of echoes awoke her from her catatonic state. Her head was cradled gently in someone's lap. She sniffed the air, burnt hair and flesh, and felt liquid slide into her sinuses. She brought her hand to her face and in her hazy state smeared the fluid across her finger. Red cut through the fog like a knife. Hands held her down when she tried to move. The hard stone burrowed into her hips. She was cold and shivered as the heat was sucked from her.

"Damn it, Hadriana," Danarius voice scowled in anger. "She wasn't ready. It was too soon."

"I'm sorry, Master Danarius. I didn't think she would react so strongly."

"Do you have any idea what you could have done?"

"What happened?" Adria mumbled.

"It's alright," Danarius muttered softly. "Try to rest. You had an accident."

"An accident?" 

Adria sat up and shook the dizzying whirling away. 

"Yes. Fenris, take Adria up to bed. I will be shortly."

Fenris bowed silently and held her by the arm out of the room. She staggered along as she tried to hold on to the flashes of pictures that had rushed through her mind. It seemed like such a long time ago that such memories had surfaced for her. She had nearly forgotten the good times that had preceded her servitude. Every cherished moment had been burned asunder with the passing years. Self-doubt and loathing had destroyed everything that had bound her to her former life. The reminiscence of family struck a chord that tied her to her past.

Now she had no one. And as much as she hated to admit it: Danarius was the closest thing she had now.

_Maker, I hate that man._


	7. Chapter 7

_Six months later…_

She looked at her hands. The deep crevices interlaced with pink scars were intricate lines of a tale carved in blood, steel and flesh. Her failings and tribulations that remained as a constant vestige hung over her with sharpened talons; always lurking and waiting for the one instance of weakness. Her faltering and hesitation resulted in the loss of those she cared about. She had turned her back on so much and resigned it to memory of what was not to be foresworn.

Her fingers adorned in gold bands and chains flashed in the fading daylight. The last embers of the summer solstice were snuffed out by lavender shades that melted into bittersweet fire. Strength was her only saving grace. She would not go out without a whimper and forfeit all that she had managed to salvage. She knew she'd get by if she closed herself off, avoided the trouble of being put out in terms of affection when it came to the deaths of those she had relied on; but the wherewithal came with heavy strings. 

The jingle of a barbed chain moving towards her as it scrapped across the path. It was the oppressive tone she had come to dread. That elf that had replaced the one person she had a shred of respect for was approaching at the swift movements that Danarius had set for him. It was an argument of integrity. Leto died and in his shadow were the inside out remnants of who was left. Somewhere deep within him, held at bay by hindrance and injustice, was the hallowed remains of a long buried past.

"There you are. I figured I'd find you watching the day's end," Danarius said as he puffed. 

Sweat trickled down his face and matted his hair in a ragged fashion. She lifted her eyes to him and smiled sweetly. It faded to nothing at the glances that appeared from over the large collar. The green eyes that studied her as she shifted uncomfortably kept her from rising from the bench. He was unsettling and foreboding. He scared her with his blank stares and threatening stances. He was a living weapon that struck fear into those that saw him.

The more he scanned her the more her heart quickened into the fluttering of a hummingbird's during the spring thaw. She swallowed her pride and smirked. He couldn't do anything to her as long as Danarius kept him under control.

"I'm sorry you couldn't find me, Master Danarius," she said gently.

"It's nothing. I'm sorry I missed it. The Senate is in a state of chaos at the moment.   
I simply couldn't get away," he explained. He plopped down beside her and took her hand in his. "How was your day?"

"Not as eventful as yours," she chortled. "Hadriana came by. Bossed people around. Threatened them and left."

"Is that all? That was a good day for her," Danarius stated with a chuckle. "She's stressed now. Her apprenticeship is ending. She'll be a magister soon enough."

"Maybe doing that will remove the stick from her ass as a rite of passage," Adria grumbled.

A hard slap landed across her cheek. She fell to the ground at Danarius' feet. The stinging flesh made her eyes burn with tears. It was sudden and unprovoked and left her startled and wounded. The magister hadn't lifted a hand to her in the months following her ritual. The correction was one she deserved. She knew she toed the line with Danarius before but in this case she had made a leap across it without processing her thoughts first.

"Don't ever say anything like that about your betters," he admonished her as he raised his hand to punish her again.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I was out of line. Please forgive me."

She grabbed his hand and held it tightly to her bosom. The stern glare softened and his hand lowered. He reached into the pouch on his belt and withdrew a soft white handkerchief. The fine stitched cloth slid through her fingers as he handed it to her. His fingers slithered from her grasp and lingered as their tips touched.

"Make sure she cleans herself up, Fenris. We want her presentable," the magister ordered to the elf as he handed the chain to the kneeling woman. He headed back for the estate and left the two slaves together in an awkward silence.

Adria dabbed the corners of her eyes and looked at the red stains on the virgin white material. It had become a recurring event with her. She tired of the blood that materialized with her tears. The whole act was a lasting reminder of her torture. There was no way to fix it and ideas of Danarius' pleasure of having it happen as a memento for her past transgressions were the most tangible for her to grasp at.

An armored hand hovered in front of her. The cold and unfeeling metal clinked as the joints moved. She placed the bloodied cloth in his hand without a word. He tilted his hand at an angle and let the stained rag fall to the ground like a leaf on a calm autumn's day. She glanced at it and averted her eyes from the stares that were cast down at her. The articulations of his gauntlet moved slowly. Adria examined the intricate details of his tattoos that snaked from the complex workings of his armor to the defined musculature of his arms. She stopped at the large neckpiece that hid his defined elven features. Moss eyes peered over the rim of his collar.

"I'm alright," Adria insisted coldly.

Fenris didn't retract his offer. He never uttered a word to her just regarded her with polite intentions. She shook her head and sighed. She took his hand and hoisted herself up. He placed his hand on her back to steady her. Pin pricks coursed through her as the chilled armor rode the small bumps of her spine.

He set the chain in her hand and closed it lightly so as not to injure her from the barbs that protruded from the links. She looked to her hand and the slightly larger one enclosed around hers. She cocked her head and met his gaze. His eyes were urgent and uncompromising.

"I can't, Fenris. You don't belong to me," she muttered softly. 

She tried to let go of the leash but his hand clenched tighter around her fist. She winced as the edges of metal dug into her fingers. He yanked the chain forward and argued with glares that she lead him inside.

"Please don't make me do this," she pleaded. 

She looked away from him and hid the apprehension that was building in her. It was a turmoil that couldn't be resisted even if she fought it. He was everything that she dared not see. His existence was one that became a symbol of her nemesis; the scourge that was her mission, unadulterated hatred and disquiet which eradicated her very reason for mourning Leto. It was too soon for her to accept this stranger as anything but the replacement of the one who held her sanity.


	8. Chapter 8

Her scent was mystifying and faint in the summer's dusky breeze. Its faint essence flashed hints that left more questions than answers for him. The thunder of drums grew louder as they neared the opened double doors. His hand remained steadfast around hers. She was shaky and weak the closer they got to the heated beats and bass. Strings wafted their strains of exultant grandeur. Applause broke out at the end of the piece, but the haunting tones continued in close proximity. It followed their every step picking up the staccato intonation with loving care. He glanced at her and snuck a smile. She was humming softly to herself. She peered at him sheepishly and he turned and focused ahead. 

_Thank the Maker for this blasted collar._

They neared the main hall. His breath caught in his lungs. He couldn't breathe. He was suffocating. He wasn't ready for what was about to happen. She had no idea what lay ahead before the end of the night. Being by Danarius' side had certain perks to it, but he couldn't speak to her. It didn't feel right. He didn't want to sound stupid in front of her. The way she looked at him sometimes, they were the eyes of an accuser.

Yet now he felt his hands growing cold. His body tingled as he gave a final reassuring squeeze.

"Why are we stopping?" she asked.

He pointed with his eyes for her to continue. She had to keep going under her own power. He reluctantly slid his armored hand from her smaller fist. He blinked at her slowly and nodded for her to proceed. Her head drooped and an audible sigh escaped her. He placed his hand on her shoulder just long enough for her to notice his stares.

"I know," she muttered. "Chain too?"

He bowed in agreement and ushered her down the hall. The chain rocked between them until the movement stopped. She clutched it tighter and stepped through the threshold of the grand hall. Danarius greeted her with a gently kiss to the cheek. 

He smirked at her as the magister led them around and introduced her to the other party-goers. She looked nervous and unaware as to why all of these magisters were there. She kept looking over her shoulder at him for the answer. How he wished he could give it to her. She had every right to know what was to take place, even though he didn't know the scale or complexity that would be brought to the forefront of everyone in attendance.

_You don't even know her._

_I would like to._

_How can you be so flippant about this?_

_She doesn't deter me from what I'm supposed to do._

_Don't be crass. Look at her, perched upon Danarius' arm like an ornament._

_It is her role._

_And yours is becoming diluted by thinking of going where even the Gods would fear to  
tread._

_I have it under control._

_Really? Why do you watch her like you do?_

_I'm not._

_You are. It's safer to keep your distance in this case. She could kill you with a single look._

_She does that anyways. Every curious glance, it's like ignoring the flame and walking into an inferno that is insurmountable._

_Don't say I didn't warn you._


End file.
